Chicken Week, Day 2: Soup

After last night I had more rice, beans and shredded chicken than I knew how to handle. I also had a head of cabbage and an oversized block of cabot cheddar and, as the weather gets colder, an unexplainable desire for cornbread.

For something so simple, I'm really bad at cornbread - without fail I either burn it, suck the moisture out of it or leave out a basic ingredient. This time I managed to somehow forget some significant portion of the sugar. I don't know if this is true, but it's the only thing I can think of that would've left me with bread of such a building material consistency. I was lucky enough that it was only a garnish in this case.

The soup was simple:
The leftover rice and beans went into a pot with the broth from the pot to simmer. Enough shredded chicken was added to keep every spoonful meaty; some extra salt, pepper and garlic went in for flavor, and a chopped head of cabbage that was wilting in the fridge (bok choy, in this case) went in with it all for the nutrients. Enough sharp cheddar got grated over the top of the hot pot to thicken the whole thing up nicely, and it was served with a few squares of the aforementioned not-so-great-but-piping-hot cornbread.

Broth Matters

At some point when I wasn't looking, broth became a steak delivery system.

Don't get me wrong; I positively adore steak delivery systems; most of the time, I am one. But broth should be hearty more-or-less on its own - you don't need to put an entire chicken in it to make it taste like something.

Part of it is an expectations game - pre-made soup companies nowadays focus on the stuff floating in the broth instead of the broth itself. This is fine, I guess, but it's gotten to the point where the broth in a can of hearty soup isn't anything more than salt water with beef concentrate in it. It's a shame, and it's a bit of a nomenclature problem - maybe it's just me, but soup that's more ingredients than stock isn't soup; it's stew.

Broth matters. And I, for one, think it's about time that some attention was paid to it.

This:
...is about as much attention as broth can possibly get while still being graced with some bulk. The potatoes work in conjunction with the gelatin from the bones as a thickener without having to use flour (which can get messy) and the mushrooms mostly act as a broth concentrator.

A nice side effect of this recipe is, like most soups, it's made up of things you probably would have thrown away if you weren't thinking ahead. Remember when I said it's smart to buy whole chicken wings for frying and save the tips? This is where the tips go. I can feed 3-4 people with this recipe and all it will cost me is a handful of vegetables, some scraps from the freezer and some spices.

Ingredients:

Stock:

• 2-4 pork chop bones, depending on size
• 12 chicken wing tips
• 2 whole cloves garlic
• 1 onion, peeled and quartered
• 2 celery stalks, roughly cut up
• Enough water to fill a medium pot
  
• 1/2 tsp paprika
• 1/4 tsp cumin
• salt and pepper

Bulk:

• 2 potatoes, cubed
• 6-8 mushrooms, roughly chopped
• green onion as garnish
  

The Gist:

Combine the stock ingredients in a big pot. Bring to a boil before reducing the heat to provide an energetic simmer. Simmer covered for an hour or so, then remove the lid and continue simmering.

When the liquid volume has halved itself (30 minutes to an hour, depending), top it off with water. When it's halved itself again, run the liquid through a strainer, discard the solid ingredients and put the stock in the fridge overnight.

Come the next day, you'll find that the stock's fat has risen to the top of the pot and solidified. Skim it off with a ladle.

An hour or so before serving, add the potatoes and mushrooms to the pot and return to a simmer. Heat until the potatoes are soft, ladle into bowls, garnish with green onion and serve with buttered bread.

Considerations:

• Don't let the stock boil for too long before letting it simmer - boiling the bones too roughly will lead to a bitter stock. Be gentle with it and your stock will remain hearty and mildly sweet.
• We (at least, I) have become used to salty soups, but the purpose of this one is to showcase the broth; go easy on the salt and let the stock speak for itself for a change.
• I haven't tried it yet, but I think this soup would be amazing with tofu substituted for half or all of the potatoes.
  

Souper!

You start with a chicken. You bake it, put it on a big plate and strip off what you want to eat. Half of the breast gets sliced for sandwiches; the remaining leg and thigh get saved for chicken salad; the pickings from the bones go great over mac n' cheese; the bones themselves, if you've got some time and some water, get boiled down for soup stock. A chicken, if you do it right, can last a while - at 79 cents a pound for the bird plus some veggies and a few pounds of potatoes, you could conceivably feed two people five wholesome dinners for 15 bucks. That's 1.50 per person, per day.

Out of all the iterations that chicken will go through over five days, it's the soup that doesn't get any credit. Soup feels like the last wheezing gasp before resigning yourself to hitting up the grocery store again.

(Chowder, before y'all New Englanders start getting antsy, is a completely different animal that, at least right now, I'm not qualified to speak to. Check back in five years.)

From a culinary level, though, soup is dead-simple - boil a picked-clean chicken, add vegetables and simmer until it's reduced by half; top off the water and do it again. Complexity is not a trait usually associated with soup. It doesn't really get much more difficult than that.

Pshaw.
This is a recipe for a split-soup - two simple soups, cooked separately, combined at the table, garnished and served. It's sweet and devilishly spicy, creamy and hearty, and with an undeniable stomach-filling bulk.

Ingredients:

Soup 1: Black Bean
(This soup is a version of David Ansel's from his book, The Soup Peddler's Slow & Difficult Soups, modified to make it fight better with the pumpkin soup. Check him out.)

• 1 tbsp. vegetable oil
• 1 large can (15oz) diced tomatoes
• 2 large cans (15oz) black beans, drained
• 1/2 yellow onion, chopped
• 3 cloves garlic, diced
• 2 1/2 tbsp. ground cumin
• 1/2 tsp. cayenne pepper
• 1/4 tsp. paprika
• salt and pepper
  

Soup 2: Pumpkin
(This is a variation of a recipe found on Mom!Mom!.com, similarly modified.)

• 2 tbsp. butter
• 1 can cooked pumpkin (NOT pie filling)
• 1/2 yellow onion, chopped
• 2 tbsp brown sugar
• 1/2 tsp. nutmeg
• 1/2 tsp cinnamon
• 2 cups chicken broth
• 1/2 cup half-and-half
• salt and pepper
  

Garnishes (in whatever combination you like)

• green onion
• Grated cheddar cheese
• plain yogurt / sour cream
• fresh cilantro
• fresh parsley
  

The Gist:

Black Bean:
Saute the onions and garlic in oil in a pot until the onions are translucent and the garlic smells like garlic. Add the spices and commingle for a few minutes. Add the drained beans and the undrained tomatoes, cover, and simmer of low heat. The longer you cook it, the better it will taste. It's supposed to be spicy; you can adjust its heat to your whims, but keep in mind that it's only half a soup and that it will be tempered by its compatriot.

Pumpkin:
Saute the onions in the butter in a pot until translucent. Add the rest of the ingredients less the half-and-half, stir to combine, and heat to a simmer. This soup should be thick; if it's watery, simmer off its excess liquids. Take off the heat, add half-and-half and stir to combine. This one is supposed to be sweet, though just short of cloying - add more brown sugar if it's too salty.

Gently combine the two soups at the table, ladling one over or around the other. Garnish and eat.

Be sure you let me know how it goes if you try it.